writer
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Hogtied and gagged, Nat found himself on slimy concrete in a dark, freezing garage. The pain in his arms from having them pulled behind his back was excruciating, enough so that the ache across the bridge of his nose was lesser for it. The wounds in his shoulders had opened up again. He ground his…
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“Yeller?” Nat asked, shrugging out of his hold. “Sorry,” Yeller mumbled again.
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He had been fighting off the pain as best he could. It was about the witching hour when he succumbed to it. Laying still was the best way; curling up, movement, it all tingled, sending saw blades of electricity through his system. God, this power mark is going to kill me. He told himself, gripping…
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Yeller stood out in the dim hallway. It was all he could do to bring his raging body back under control. He cursed out Cashia, swearing he’d get vengeance. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could handle. Trembling, he leaned his head against a door jam and listened to the light chatter…
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Yeller and Nat slipped back to the living room where the group was between sleep and dawn waking. Hana had been moved to a curled-up position in the armchair. Sun Hee was apologizing for trying to ditch her.
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It was Yeller and not Cashia asking this time. Nat looked at him skeptically. Hana rested a hand on Nat’s, her finger rubbing his thumb.
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Deck turned to Yeller. “I’ve been informed that you’re the heavy hitter of the bunch, Cashia. Are you mated too?”
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Hackles rose on the back of Nat’s neck at every blurred shadow. The wounds in his shoulders ached and throbbed, but the wolf inside supported him through the pain. The city left the group unsettled in the slow onset of twilight. The chill nipped at their heels. The sun was setting in the distance, and…
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She sat rigidly in her chair, her second hand corset pinching at her ribs. This was not comfortable in the least. What had ever possessed her to go from her folks farm in Kansas to Manhattan of all places was beyond her now.
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It was cold in the room, but I could already feel the pits in my shirt growing moist. Lovely. Just lovely. My bright, chipper mood had crumbled into the dust bin, alongside my motivation to even be in the room. I wanted to go get in my car and go home.
Chapel Orahamm 